


Hudson v Dalton Academy

by patchfire



Series: Better than Planned [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: Forced Outing, Homophobia, M/M, Pinn Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2013-05-15
Packaged: 2017-12-11 22:32:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/803988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchfire/pseuds/patchfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Living their life quietly doesn’t necessarily mean everything goes smoothly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hudson v Dalton Academy

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Pinn Week](http://pinnweek.tumblr.com), Day 1: Firsts. I wanted to play with the theme a little bit.

They don’t even think about it. 

That will be what galls Puck, later on: that neither he nor Finn thought it was of any importance. Burt had easily won the statewide Democratic primary to take over Brown’s Senate seat, now that Brown was running for governor, and the last weekend in September, Burt has a big campaign event in Columbus. Finn and Puck show up, and yeah, they’re on the stage with Burt and Carole, and yeah, Puck even hears a few comments about how interesting it is that both of Burt Hummel’s sons are, if not gay, in same-sex relationships. 

Still, it’s just one Saturday public event, followed by a fundraiser that night, and on Sunday, Finn and Puck wake up in their Westerville apartment and spend the morning lying in bed and running errands. In the afternoon, Puck has to go show a few houses and Finn sits down to grade some of the papers his eighth grade class turned in on Friday. Puck waits until the last minute to leave, trying to distract Finn. 

“I have to grade these.”

“Yeah, you can do that after I leave,” Puck says, trying to slide his hand under Finn’s waistband. 

“You’re going to be late,” Finn warns, squirming a little but not really trying to stop Puck. “This isn’t fair, I can’t undress you.”

“Yep. I have to look professional and shit.” Puck smirks. “But you’re just sitting here grading papers.” He moves his hand lower, brushing his fingertips across the tip of Finn’s cock. 

“You don’t have time to finish anything,” Finn grumbles. 

“Yeah, this way you’ll be thinking about me,” Puck says, sitting up and grinning widely. He moves his hand and gives Finn a brief kiss. “Bye, sugar-cakes.”

“Shut up. Pumpkin-dumpling.” 

“Good one!” Puck laughs and grabs his shit before letting himself out of the apartment and driving to meet the first set of clients at the first house on their list. 

Real estate had _not_ been on Puck’s top-three careers list, ever. Or top-five, and probably not top-ten, until the day in his third quarter at U of Lima, when he’d walked into the class he’d registered for just to get enough hours, and found out it was one of four required courses to become a real estate agent in Ohio. 

Not only that, but real estate agents make decent money, and they could become real estate brokers, which make even better money, and Puck has always been able to charm and sell people things they hadn’t even known they’d needed. So he’d signed up for the other three courses, taken a test, and started working for a broker in Lima while Finn finished his degree. When Finn’s job offer from Dalton, of all places, had shown up, Puck had transferred to another office in the same national chain and started rebuilding a client list. A year and a few months after their move to Westerville, Puck is doing pretty well, even if he’d never planned on the job. 

Two pairs of clients and seven houses later, Puck stops to get Chili’s To-Go and then heads back home. He stops next to the building’s mailboxes and frowns. Six years and a few months into it, and the ‘Hudson/Puckerman’ is pretty accurate while at the same time being possibly misleading. The apartment’s got two bedrooms, because they need the office space, and neither of them has a real need to start making out in front of the mailboxes or in the parking lot. Puck’s schedule means he doesn’t drop by Dalton to see Finn, though Finn sometimes will bring Puck a coffee or even dinner, once school’s out for the day, since Puck tends to work later. 

After _Hollingsworth v. Perry_ and _United States v. Windsor_ , every state has to recognize marriages performed in other states, and all of the anti-marriage equality amendments became null and void overnight, which is good, if Puck and Finn ever decide to put a more formal name to their life. Still, it hadn’t fixed everything, and Puck hadn’t let on at the Lima office that Finn was more than his best friend. His boss in Westerville had let him know early on that she doesn’t care if he and Finn are roommates or Bert and Ernie roommates, which is good, but really, Puck doesn’t need everyone in their business. The important people know, and that’s all there really is to it. 

“Finished that grading?” Puck asks when he unlocks the door. 

“Fifteen minutes ago,” Finn calls from the bedroom. “What do you want for dinner?”

“I was hoping you wanted Chili’s,” Puck says, going into the kitchen to unpack the bag. 

“Oh, sweet. Did you sell any houses?”

“Maybe. Remember the couple I told you about that’s getting married, the ones in their sixties?” Puck waits for Finn to enter the living room and nod at Puck through the window between kitchen and living room. “They found a two-bedroom they liked, want to make an offer on it tomorrow.”

“Early morning, then.”

“Yeah,” Puck says. “Got us that grilled chicken stuff.”

“Awesome.” Finn walks into the kitchen and puts his arm around Puck’s waist, then backs Puck away from the food and up against the wall. “You left me hanging earlier.”

“Sorry?”

“You’re not sorry!” Finn says, untucking Puck’s shirt. “You wanted to leave me hard and thinking about you.”

“Well, yeah,” Puck admits. “Did it work?”

“Our grilled chicken’s going to be cold,” Finn tells him. “So you tell me?”

Puck grins. “It sounds like we had a successful Sunday, is what I’m thinking.”

 

Puck does get up with Finn, even though sometimes he can go in to the office later, so he can head in to prep the offer the couple wants to make. Finn makes the coffee, they look each other over—at least one of them tries to walk out with unmatching socks, shoes, or tie each week—and Puck watches Finn grab all of his graded papers before they head to the parking lot. 

Puck climbs on his motorcycle and fastens his helmet as Finn drives off. The motorcycle’s probably their biggest point of contention: Finn worries, and Puck can make too many arguments in its favor that aren’t even the real reason he keeps it. The real reason is just because he loves it, but it is fuel-efficient and it does help him stand out at his job. 

It’s also easy to find a parking space, and Puck walks into the office with the helmet under his arm. 

“Good morning, Mr. Puckerman,” Charles, the guy that mans the front desk, says. “Saw you on the news this weekend.”

“The news?” Puck says, surprised. “What?”

“You and your partner,” Charles continues. “At the Hummel campaign event.”

“Oh, yeah, we were there,” Puck says, nodding. “Burt is Finn’s stepfather. He’s an awesome guy.”

“Is it true his other son is gay?” There’s an unspoken ‘too’, which Puck doesn’t acknowledge. Everyone assumes he and Finn are gay, and usually Puck just lets them. 

“Kurt? Yeah. He lives in New York now, though. Got married last year.” Puck chuckles. “Talk about a whirlwind romance. He dated this guy Blaine for a year and a half in high school and early college, right? And then he dates another guy at his college for three years. They have a nice friendly break-up, and three months later, Adam, the ex, calls Kurt up, wanting to set him up on a blind date. Kurt went. Six months later, he’s married!”

Charles laughs. “But he’s happy?”

“Oh, yeah. Confused the hell out of Burt, though.”

“Well, he seems like a good man. I was planning to vote for him instead of Boehner, anyway.” Charles nods. “Have a good day.”

“You too. And thanks!” Puck waves over his shoulder and gets to work on the offer, trying to concentrate, and he almost ignores his phone ringing. 

Almost, until it registers that it’s Finn’s ringtone, and it’s the middle of the morning of a schoolday, and Finn wouldn’t call unless something important is happening. 

“Hey,” Puck says. “Is everything—” He stops, because he can tell everything isn’t okay. Finn’s crying, and Puck can’t imagine what’s going on. “What’s wrong?”

Finn mumbles something that ends with ‘me’, but Puck can’t quite make out what it is. 

“Finn, hey, I can’t understand you,” Puck says, and he wishes his office was a little closer to Dalton. 

“They saw the news,” Finn says, and Puck frowns, because he can’t figure out what the news has to do with anything, and who’s they, anyway?

“Hey, sugar-daddy,” Puck tries, his voice light. “I still don’t know what’s happening.”

“They.” Finn hiccups a few times. “Sorry. Puck, they _fired_ me.”

“What? What the hell?” Puck stands up and glances down at the offer that he had been proofreading. “Where are you?”

“In the parking lot,” Finn says. “They saw the news. Said the anti-bullying policy was for students. They said—said it was like the Boy Scouts.”

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Puck says quietly. He picks up the offer and heads out the assistant that he and several other junior agents share. “Rich?”

“Yeah?”

“This is for the Stanleys. I need my appointments for this afternoon cancelled. I’ll call and let Tricia know about tomorrow.”

“What’s wrong?” Rich asks, taking the offer and already starting to prep a fax cover sheet.

“Family emergency.” Puck hurries out, putting off pulling on his helmet.

“I heard that,” Finn says. 

“Okay?” Puck says.

“Family emergency?”

“Dude.” Puck stops outside the office. “If you aren’t my family, then who the fuck is?” 

“Well, I guess, but—” Finn cuts himself off. “I need to leave here. They’re starting to stare at my car.”

“You want me to meet you at home?” Puck asks, even though his mind is stuck on the fact that Finn apparently doesn’t get it, even after all of this time. 

“I want—I can’t drive that far,” Finn admits. “The Starbucks near the school?”

“I’ll be there soon,” Puck promises. 

“Don’t drive too fast,” Finn says, and Puck grins in spite of himself.

“Yeah, yeah,” Puck says, and Finn ends the call before Puck can finish the rest of his sentence. “I love you, too,” he says anyway, because maybe he’s not saying it enough. 

The trip to the Starbucks takes a lot less time than it should, but Finn still beats him there, since it’s literally around the corner from Dalton’s campus. Finn’s still in his car, and Puck opens the door, pulling him out and hugging him. 

“I don’t know what happened,” Finn mutters, and Puck hugs him tighter. 

“Let’s get some coffee. It’s too early for a bar,” Puck jokes, and Finn doesn’t even manage half of a smile, just lets Puck lead him in and accepts his drink without a word. 

“They said it was a bad example,” Finn says hollowly when they sit down. 

“Is it ‘cause we’re not married or something?” Puck asks. “‘Cause I always figured you’d rather not elope, but we can get a flight to Atlantic City.”

“That’s a lousy proposal,” Finn says, one corner of his mouth turning up. 

“Yeah, that’s ‘cause it wasn’t a proposal,” Puck fires back. “That was just trying to figure out what the hell’s going on.”

“Oh.” Finn looks disappointed, and Puck sighs inwardly. He’s fucking up even more things, without even trying. “But no. It’s not. Just... we’re in a ‘same-sex relationship’,” Finn says, making quotes with his hands. “That’s all. If the students are gay or bi or pan, they’re subject to the same conduct regulations and protected by the same anti-bullying policy, but they aren’t condoning it. And teachers just can’t be anything but straight.” Finn stares at his hands. “Fuck it. I liked my job, Puck. I’m good at it.”

Puck feels his stomach suddenly drop, because on the way to meet Finn, all he could think about was the telephone calls they could make, the ways that Finn could fight back, either get his job back or at least call attention to the lack of legal protection and find a new job, and it suddenly dawns on him that Finn has another option.

Finn could leave.

Finn could find a new, smaller apartment, disavow Puck, and he’d probably be back at work in time for the morning bell on Wednesday, if not Tuesday, and Puck suddenly feels like he can’t breathe. Sure, he slept around in high school and the first year after high school. Sure, he’s been with more women than men, overall. And sure, he and Finn never sat down and had big mushy heart-to-heart talks about where they were going or whatever. 

But it’s _Finn_ and it’s six years and four or five months and it’s being faithful and it’s working through the hard shit and Puck had thought, until five seconds earlier, that it was a done deal, a forever kind of thing, even though neither of them had said it outloud.

“Oh, God,” Finn says, and some of Puck’s distress must be showing. “Oh, shit, Puck, I didn’t mean it like that, I didn’t mean—I’m not going anywhere. Okay?” He takes both of Puck’s hand in one of his, and Puck wishes the cutesy loveseat had been open, because he really just wants to tuck himself under Finn’s arm, but that’s not fair, because Finn’s the one that just got _fired_. 

“Okay,” Puck says after a moment, nodding. “What do you want to do? We can call the press. Burt.”

“Yeah.” Finn falls silent for well over a minute, then finally nods once. “Let’s do it. This isn’t right. I got the ‘Best New Teacher’ Award last June, for the Middle School and the High School combined.”

“Yeah.” Puck pulls out his phone and starts looking through his contacts. Then he stops and flips to his calendar. “You know what, this won’t get resolved that fast, probably.”

“No,” Finn says slowly. 

“Then I should put in for vacation in October. I’ve been promising you L.A. for years.”

“That’d be nice,” Finn says uncertainly.

“We’ll take a week. Maybe we can learn to surf one day.” Puck takes a deep breath, because this isn’t what he ever pictured. “Maybe check out some jewelry. Local government.”

“Yeah, that’d be cool,” Finn says, looking confused.

“Asshole.” Puck grins. “That _was_ a proposal.”

“That sucked!” Finn retorts, but he’s starting to grin. 

“I’ll buy you some flowers at the Kroger on the way home?” Puck offers. 

“You’re not just asking so it’ll be like, ‘Mr. Hudson and his fiance’, are you? In the press, I mean.”

“I said it ‘cause you thought you weren’t my family. The fuck, dude?” Puck shakes his head. “I must’ve fucked up somewhere before today.”

“No.” Finn shakes his head. “I just never thought about it. Honest.”

“Well, think about it.” Puck shrugs. “You ready to be the poster boy?”

“Not really,” Finn admits. “But I’m a good teacher. And the fact that I love you shouldn’t make a difference.”

“Nope,” Puck agrees. “Let’s start making some calls.”

The first two TV stations aren’t interested. The first five websites are, the second two TV stations are, and Burt’s assistant sounds intrigued. One of the TV stations sends out a reporter to the Starbucks, for their noon broadcast, and after it’s over, she does a longer interview for the evening news. 

“I’m submitting this to our national desk,” she tells them. “This is unacceptable, in 2018. Thank you so much for contacting us. How did you get my name?”

“Oh, my stepdad,” Finn says, too casually, and Puck smirks. “Burt Hummel.”

The reporter’s eyes widen, and Puck nods to himself. It’s not in the piece, which is good, at least at the beginning, but it’ll get more play and more notice a national level. A popular three-term congressional representative, running for Senate, and his stepson gets fired for being—well, it’ll get framed as being gay, Puck knows, even though they’re trying to use the words they claim for themselves. However it gets phrased, it’s not the first time it’s happened, but it’s the first time it’s happened to either of them, and it’s certainly the first time Puck can think of where they were essentially outed, instead of coming out on their own terms. 

It’s almost two before they get home, changing clothes almost lazily, and Finn falls asleep. Puck watches him for fifteen minutes, then steals his phone and sets up in the office, calling his own office to take the vacation time he mentioned to Finn, plus to redistribute a few of his smaller clients. Tricia understands why he needs to cut back, once he explains the situation. 

“Are you finally going to make an honest man out of him?” Tricia asks. 

“Seriously?” Puck responds before he can help himself. “Sorry,” he says quickly. 

Tricia laughs. “I’ll take that as a ‘maybe’. Will we see you tomorrow?”

“Probably just going to show some properties,” Puck admits. “Thanks, Tricia.”

“I’ll look for you on the news.” Tricia ends the call and Puck exhales. She could have been wary about the media, but she seems more excited than anything, and Puck stares at his and Finn’s cell phones for a long time, neither of them moving. 

Puck’s lights up first, announcing Kurt is calling, and Puck smirks in spite of himself. “Hey, Kurt.”

“Hello, Puck.” Kurt sighs. “How’s Finn?”

“Sleeping,” Puck admits. 

“Well, that’s good.”

“Yeah, that’s what I figured.” Puck knows Kurt isn’t in love with Finn, knows that Kurt is happily married, but he also knows that if he ever needs anyone to help defend Finn, Kurt will forever be his first call. Kurt isn’t in love with Finn, but Kurt loves Finn fiercely and, Puck thinks, probably close to unconditionally. “He’s going to fight.”

“Good.”

“And I’m taking him to California in a few weeks.”

“Finally!” Kurt starts to laugh. “How long would you two have kept floundering on?”

“Shut up,” Puck grumbles, but he’s smiling in spite of himself. “How’s your better half?”

“We’re good. We’re really, really good,” Kurt says, almost quietly, and Puck can hear the smile in his answer. 

“Good.” Puck sighs a little. “You got any contacts for us?”

“That’s actually why I called. Hang on.” Kurt rattles off four names at various places, and their contact information, and after a few more minutes, he hangs up, and Puck starts going through the list. 

By the time the reporter’s piece airs on the local news, there’s some stuff going viral, and he and Finn watch the national news together, eyes wide. 

“An online petition has already been created, with several hundred signatures just in the past three hours. Numerous groups have pledged their assistance to Mr. Hudson, and it seems safe to say that this is one story that isn’t going to go away anytime soon for Dalton Academy.”

“Petitions aren’t going to fix it,” Finn mumbles. 

“No, but a lawsuit might,” Puck says. “If you want to do that.”

“I _want_ to teach, but I don’t want to look over my shoulder, either.”

“No reason you can’t do both of ‘em, I figure.”

“Who’s going to hire me? I’m still just a second-year teacher.”

“Somebody will,” Puck says confidently, because he’s pretty sure Finn’ll get some offers from across the country, even. He looks around the apartment, and he thinks that it’s good they were never planning on staying too long, because neither of them is too attached. Almost every state has reciprocity agreements for real estate licensure; he’ll be fine, wherever they land. 

“Yeah, maybe.” Finn’s head drops onto Puck’s shoulder. “I guess I figured if any of us ever made a huge stride for anything, it’d be Kurt.”

“Broadway loves him, and Broadway doesn’t care who he goes home to,” Puck points out. “But hey. _Hudson v. Dalton Academy_?”

Finn snorts. “Who’da thought?”


End file.
